Falling awake

I'm still in denial.

Exactly over what, I'm still not sure. So much has happened so quickly that I'm don't know how to make heads or tails out of any of it. All I know is that denial isn't just a river in Egypt, and regrets? Well, I've got plenty. Three bags full.

I miss my grandpa so much. People say that it gets better with time, but some days I can't believe that'll ever be true. It's been more than a month now since the actual funeral, but the pain still feels just as fresh. I can still conjure up the image of him in his coffin, and every time I think of it, I wish I had been strong enough to kiss him goodbye and tell him one last time how much I loved him, instead of merely placing that orchid on his lifeless sleeve.

And every so often, I get this terrible sinking feeling that I could have done something. Should have done something. Maybe even just have said something. To the doctors. To him.

I want to say that in a couple months time I'll be able to write this fabulous post about him so you can understand just why he was such a monumental figure in my life, but I - I just don't know if I'll ever be able to do him justice.

I know I need to get back out there. I can't keep sitting at home, studying to pass away the time, with my only retreat being time with the boyfriend. Even though that's what comfortable. I mean, nothing really dulls the pain as well as relearning about cell receptors and neurotransmitters and all the infinite detailed tedious specifics about this or that disease. For all my complaining about studying and how much I hate it, I've come to realize that that is the only thing I truly have any control over. And how terrible is that?

It's summer, but I'm not taking advantage of it at all. It's bright and sunny outdoors, but I rather prefer to stay at home to mindlessly pass away the days watching television and reading CNN.com. After all, as long as I know what's going on in the world, who's to judge whether or not I'm actually a part of it?

I need to get back out there. I know that. I need to soak up some vitamin D and regain some of that happy energy I used to have. But it's ridiculous how much effort it takes me to drudge up the energy to go to the grocery store a mere block away. I'd much rather eat expired yogurt and goodness-knows-what from the depths of my refrigerator.

All I know is that I've been hiding. Homemade dinners with the boyfriend. Clean dishes and fresh laundry. I'm stuck in a pattern. The sun rises, the sun sets, and I get to watch fireworks on Wednesdays.

The familiarity is nice, and if I'm honest, I'll admit that I'm far too scared to break away from it. Because this is mindless and numbing. And it's easier this way.